


Don't Look

by Hekate1308



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, M/M, witch!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 11:50:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14544126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: “You must not look at witches” his aunt told him when he was little and they had to visit the witch of the village for a cold medicine. “People say they take the hearts of those who do.”





	Don't Look

_“You must not look at witches” his aunt told him when he was little and they had to visit the witch of the village for a cold medicine. “People say they take the hearts of those who do.”_

_Castiel didn’t know how the old woman they saw was supposed to take his heart, but he was looking on the floor anyway._

Everyone knew the witch of the village.

That said, no one really talked to him – the young man who happened to be their witch, that was, unless they had a problem and figured magic alone could fix it.

Still, everyone knew Dean Winchester.

Castiel supposed he was just… difficult to ignore. With those green eyes, his easy smile, his readiness to help…

He always tried to think of something else when he noticed he was… a little too interested in the witch. Witches were meant to be ignored until you had need of their services, and even then he shouldn’t have been looking at him. Not really.

But last winter, when old Higgins had been so ill, and no one had dared go to the small clearing in the woods where the witch lived…

_Castiel was sweating by the time he reached the witch’s hut, even though it was snowing. But he had never been near the witch’s place since he had arrived two years ago._

_Every village had a witch. It was just a fact of life. And everyone knew that if one passed on, there would be another to take their place soon enough. So it had been with Dean Winchester._

_Of course rumours had started flying around almost immediately, how he had a pact with the Darkness; how his best and only friend was a demon; how he flew around their village on full moon nights, looking for those who dared leave their houses._

_Castiel had never believed the stories, but here alone in the dark it was tempting to turn around. Old Higgings would understand, and if it was his time to –_

_No. He wouldn’t let him down._

_Castiel took a deep breath and walked up to the hut. He knocked._

_Almost immediately, the door flew open. “Come in and know me better, man!” a cheerful voice called out._

_He hesitantly entered._

_At first, he thought the bearded man sitting at the table and sipping on a glass of something that was probably a pretty strong liquor was the witch, but then he grinned and his eyes flashed red._

_Castiel took a step back, contemplating running away, but he only managed to walk into a broad, warm chest. “Don’t worry about Crowley” a warm voice said, “I summoned him accidentally a few years back and since then he shows up when he wants to, but he never does any harm.”_

_“That you know of” the demon pointed out._

_“good enough for me.”_

_And then Castiel made the mistake of looking right into the witch’s face, even though he’d been warned all his life not to do so._

_And it was the most handsome face he had ever beheld._

_Green eyes sparkled as the young man asked, “What can I do for you?”_

_“It’s old Higgins – he’s very ill and –“_

_His face fell. “Jeremiah and his lungs again, hm? Let me just quickly mix a few herbs together…”_

_Castiel wasn’t sure if he was more shocked that the witch knew immediately what was wrong with old Higgins, proving that he’d been to see him before, or at the use of his first name. He hadn’t even known what he was called._

_“You’re way too nice to them” Crowley drawled. “if I was in your place –“_

_“But you are not, your Highness, so let me do my job.”_

_Crowley just shrugged, and Castiel couldn’t help but stare at him. Weren’t demons supposed to tempt them who summoned them (albeit accidentally) until they gave in?_

_“He likes to play at being evil, but the second I’d give in, he’d get another assignment, and that’s the last thing he wants. Here, he gets to drink the good stuff and hang out with yours truly.”_

_The witch winked at him and Castiel blushed._

_After a few minutes, he was done. “There. That should do the trick. Three drops three times a day.”_

_“Thank you.”_

_Dean nodded. “Oh, and –“ he pulled another small herb out of a bunch he’d hung over the fireplace and breathed a spell on it; then he pinned it to Castiel’s lapel. “You won’t feel the cold now.”_

_“Thank you” he managed to say as Dean grinned at him._

_“If you ever see an owl, and it looks like it’s waiting for news, that’s one of my messengers. Just put a little note on its leg to let me know how Jeremiah’s doing.”_

_Castiel had no idea what an owl waiting for news looked like, but he still nodded._

_He doubted that he would have felt anything, with or without the herb; his heart beat wildly all the way back home._

_Old Higgins soon grew well again, and true to Dean’s words, two weeks after his visit to the witch, Castiel went into his bedroom to find an owl waiting on his windowsill._

_Waiting for news._

_It waited patiently as Castiel wrote the note, even held its leg out so he could attach it, then hooted and flew away._

_He didn’t expect an answer, but the owl still returned. The answering note was short._

Thanks, Cas. Glad to hear it. Dean.

_No one had ever called him Cas before._

Ever since then, the witch hadn’t left his thoughts. They hadn’t spoken again, but he’d seen him in the forest now and then, gathering herbs; and he was even sure that he had seen Crowley a d times out of the corner of his eye.

It wasn’t long before Castiel realized he must have bewitched him. Why else would he dream of green eyes and gentle hands fixing a herb onto his suit?

Thankfully, he knew what to do.

Walpurgis Night. The night of the Witches.

And the night on which no witch may deny a request, according to legend. Not that anyone had yet found out if it was true; people stayed indoors on that night for a good reason.

But Castiel had no choice. He couldn’t allow himself to dream his life away thinking of a witch.

And so he snuck out on Walpurgis Night.

Only to be immediately hailed by old Higgins. “Castiel! While you’re at it, could you give Dean this? I know rosemary’s difficult to find in these parts.”

He pocketed the herb, wondering when they had become such good friends; he hadn’t taken more than a few steps away from Higgins’ house before Ellen called to him, “Bring that boy this pie from me, will you? He loves pecan.”

At the end, he was carrying presents from almost every villager into the forest, wondering if they all knew they were friends with the witch, or if they kept it a secret.

Walpurgis Night meant that Dean would be aside, completing old rituals that were supposed to honour magic and nature and their connection, and so he didn’t go to the witch’s hunt and instead walked up to the small hill near the village.

Suddenly, something moved behind him and he reeled around.

Crowley smirked. “When you’re that easily scared… Dean picked a fine one.”

So he had been hexed. He swallowed.

Crowley shook his head. “You humans are so gullible, do you really think… you know what, it’s not my problem. You talk this over between yourself.”

He vanished and reappeared right in front of Castiel, his eyes red,. “Just know that if you break his heart… I’ll be the one to tear yours out.”

“I thought he’d be easier to tempt once his heart was broken” Castiel replied, even though he had no idea how he found the courage.

Crowley threw his head back and laughed. “You should really listen to him more closely. What is there for me in Hell but fire and eternal damnation? This is fun.”

He vanished for good. Castiel continued on his journey.

Dean was indeed on the hill, making sparks fly into the air from a fire he’d lit while chanting in a language he didn’t recognize. He had no idea how to proceed. Was there a protocol for interacting with witches on Walpurgis Night?

“Hey Castiel!” Dean called out, waving; and he had no choice but to approach him, the gifts from the villagers in his hands.

“Are those for me?” Dean beamed. “Awesome! Oh, Ellen backed a pie, and Jeremiah got me rosemary, and Bobby –“

“Dean” he interrupted him, baffled, “Are you friends with all of them?”

“Of course. They don’t know about each other, of course; all those stupid stories about not coming near witches if you want to keep your heart bla bla bla. Well, except for Jeremiah, he tells everyone, but he’s old enough that most of you don’t pay attention to what he’s saying anyway.”

“I – I –“ Castile stuttered before swallowing.

“Yes?”

“I have come to ask – there is – I want to –“

“You have a request?” Dean’s grin turned almost wolfish. “Let’s see if I can fulfil iut.”

So he didn’t have to? Castiel pressed on. “I want you to dissolve the love spell you’ve put on me.”

“What the – why would you think I would hex you?” Dean took a few steps back, clearly hurt; and he realized it actually made him feel bad.

“I –“

“It’s always the same” Dean said bitterly. “Just because I am a witch I don’t get trusted. No, I have to earn it time and time again, no matter where I go. You saw me make the medicine for Jeremiah and it worked! What about that screams “evil witch who puts spell on people because he can”?”

“I – I didn’t think –“

“No” he interrupted him. “most never do. Funny thing is, UI thought I had found a good place here. I thought over time I might even be able to move into the village – just live my life. But no – even the cutest of them all doesn’t think I’m – what are those, then? Are they scared? Do they think presents will placate me?”

“Dean, please” he said helplessly. “I – I shouldn’t have judged you. But I have never wanted someone like this before, and I didn’t realize –“

He stopped abruptly when he realized what he was saying.

Dean studied him, then smiled again. “You said love spell.”

“Well, I –“

Dean stepped up to him. “So you haven’t been able to get me off your mind either?”

_Either?_

He nodded.

“In that case, maybe I could forgive you” Dean declared, “but that will come at a price?”

“What price?” he breathed.

“A kiss?”

He could only nod.

* * *

Dean eventually moved into the village – into Cas’ house. Occasionally, strangers would wonder why the other allowed a witch to live among them (not to mention how they managed to look at him every single day) but Dean simply laughed in their faces.

Cas learned how to distinguish the herbs and plants for Dean’s potions; he learned how to talk to animals so they now and then do you small favours; he learned that a demon could be a pest if he wanted to, but also a surprisingly good friend.

He learned what it felt like to be happy.

Dean, meanwhile, learned what it was like, being part of a community after having lived in its shadows for so long.

They both learned what it felt like waking up next to the love of one’s life.

A while after they moved in, a few words appeared over their door. They highly suspected Crowley of burning them into the wood, although he naturally denied it.

The words where there for all too read for years to come.

_You must not look at witches, for they will take your heart and keep it well._


End file.
